Polar Bear Plunge Club

Nordic countries the world over have long celebrated seasonal rituals locally referred to as polar bear plunges, winter swimming, ice swimming, winter dousing and a host of other names, some a bit rough to mention here. Call it by whatever name you like, but I will testify that it's certainly one way to cool off rapidly if that soak in the winter sauna was a bit too steamy. Matter of fact, it'll cool you off rapidly even if you're in Prudhoe Bay, Alaska in July and there probably isn't a sauna within hundreds of miles. Just ask me! Haaaaa

Access to the Arctic Ocean is restricted for security reasons here on the North Slope and only accessible via prearranged tours originating at the Caribou Inn (my $200 shoebox) in Deadhorse. For $38 bucks, they'll haul you through security and the remaining couple miles to the waters edge. The 8:00 a.m. pre-tour briefing was conducted by a rather unhappy little fella whom had totally forgotten (or never learned) how to smile. He almost seemed to take delight when informing us we may not be allowed out of the bus even after we got to the ocean that morning.

According to him, there had been significant polar bear activity recently and the danger was in the fact that polar bears rely upon the ice fog to conceal their snowy appearance until they are within striking range of prey. It was his hasty and abrupt presentation that left me with the distinct impression that wanna-be swimmers were more of a nuisance and waste of his time than it was a safety concern. Just because he wasn't happy to be here didn't mean I had to share the feeling.

Well, I got news for old "snarrelface" (I'll allow you to decide if I'm talking about the polar bear or the bus driver). I didn't survive yesterday's 308 miles of torture to go home without getting Mike's ashes scattered nor to leave without my Polar Bear Plunge certificate! Since it was 40 degrees and raining, I didn't figure the "plungers" would take up too much of his precious time by loitering excessively in the frigid 39 degree water.

Although not his fault, the tour bus windows were so covered in mud it was impossible to see any of the things he was attempting to point out, so most of us just sat staring at one another and making new acquaintances as we jolted along another few thousand potholes and patiently awaited the arrival at waters edge.

Now, I had already convinced myself that bear or no bear, I was getting Mike's ashes spread and I was going home with my Polar Bear Plunge certificate. Since I couldn't see the tour, I was determined to get something for my $38 tour fee, if it was nothing but a few seconds of "cool-down time." And "COOL DOWN" I did!!!! Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr !!!!

The frigid 39 degree water will literally takes your voluntary control of breathing away initially. I wasn't even able to scream with excitement as I had planned to do. When you do get your breath back, all you can think about is getting out of that water to a dry towel. Like I said, you don't loiter excessively! haaaaaa Holy Pete's.........what was I thinking? haaaaaa I had wanted that certificate for some time and darn it, I wasn't leaving the Arctic without it! You only live once in life and it isn't a dress rehearsal for the next time around.

I'm still trying to figure out if the term "dip" referring to what you do in the water, or what you "are" for having considered such a crazy idea in the first place. Out of a tour of approximately 20-22 people, I was joined by three other brave plungers................all teenagers! Heck, I couldn't have even outrun those three if the polar bear had emerged..

Now that I have my "stupid papers" to prove I totally submerged myself in the Arctic Ocean, thus joining the elite (aka: stupid) group of Polar Bear Plunge Club members, I'm headed back down the infamous Haul Road and feeling really good about having taken the plunge. :-)